


What is Your Inner Potato?

by mandysimo13



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Buzzfeed, Crack, Crack Fic, John is a Saint, Sherlock is bored, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 20:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: Sherlock is bored due to a lack of cases or experiments so John tries to find a way to distract him. Buzzfeed provides much needed relief from Sherlock's plight.





	What is Your Inner Potato?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [88thParallel (CanadaHolm)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadaHolm/gifts).



> Original prompt: Sherlock takes up some strange past time for a case and doesn’t want to admit he’s still addicted to it after. Knitting. Candy Crush. Stamp collecting. Pilates. Idk what, that’s up to you. John figures it out after Sherlock tries to hide it.
> 
> As always, be kind, kudos and comments are welcome ^_^

Sherlock had been pacing the flat for almost an hour and it was driving John batty. He tried to ignore it, at first. Sherlock often got restless when he didn’t have an experiment or case on and usually John would be able to distract him long enough to turn his attention to something that wasn’t shooting the walls. But he had no care for the violin, no desire to go for a walk, the idea of a board game had him shooting daggers at John so the good doctor just dropped the subject. 

 

He watched over the top of his newspaper as Sherlock practically wore a hole in the carpet in front of him, traversing over the coffee table to bounce on their couch a few times before turning back to sneer at his reflection in the mirror. When Sherlock miscalculated how close he was to his empty chair and stubbed his toe, John felt the need to intervene once more. 

 

“Sherlock, just sit down a moment,” he said, folding the paper and putting it aside. 

 

Sherlock grimaced and held his aching foot in both hands. “Sitting?! Sitting is boring!”

 

“Yes, well, you managed to bruise your toe quite spectacularly so humor me, yeah?” John gently pushed him into his chair and Sherlock went without another word of argument. He rubbed the soreness from his foot and barked, “what will you have me do, John? Watch crap telly with you?”

 

“If you’d like. Maybe you can find a murderer on the daytime talk shows.” Sherlock huffed his opinion of that and John smiled. Or alternatively, you can sit here and dick around on your phone or laptop for a bit. Maybe find a new experiment or something.”

 

“Ridiculous, John,” he said before trying to stand again. However, when he put pressure on his foot he hissed in pain and conceded to having to sit for the time being. “Could you pass me my phone?”

 

“With pleasure,” John replied, picking it up off the coffee table and slapping it into Sherlock’s open palm. Then John settled into his chair with his laptop to go through his email and Facebook, hoping that Sherlock would find something to occupy himself with. 

 

Silence enveloped the flat for all of two minutes before Sherlock groaned in frustration. 

 

“You’ve barely even tried,” John said before Sherlock could voice his displeasure again. 

 

“You sound like my mother,” Sherlock griped. John chuckled at that and kept scrolling through Facebook. While scrolling through his feed, John came across a Buzzfeed quiz that made him laugh. “What’s so funny,” he snapped. 

 

John shook his head and answered, “nothing, just some silly quiz on Facebook.”

 

“A quiz? Like in school?”

 

John laughed. “Definitely not like in school. These are just fun little time wasters. This one is “What kind of garbage are you?”

 

Sherlock squinted his eyes, confused. “Why would you want to be any type of garbage? It’s garbage. That makes no sense.”

 

“It doesn’t have to make sense, Sherlock. They’re just fun.” 

 

“Why would taking quizzes to see what type of garbage you are be fun?”

 

“Why don’t you take it and find out,” John said, trying to stop the line of questioning. Sometimes, there was no explaining why people found dumb things fun. Sherlock would just have to experience it and find out for himself. 

 

Sherlock sniffed and said, “fine. Link me.”

 

John linked him the quiz and they both took it. When they had both finished, John asked, “okay, now what did you get?”

 

“I got a pizza box? It says I am ‘an empty pizza box. There might even be a little pizza left in you. You are a good omen. You stand for everything that is beautiful. Everything that is pizza.’ What does that even mean? What did you get?”

 

“Banana peel: Bold and beautiful, smart but not pretentious.”

 

“I don’t get it.”

 

“Want to do another one?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

They managed to waste a good hour before Sherlock got bored of the quizzes. But, instead of being stroppy and manic, he had calmed down enough to do something more productive and declared he would play the violin. Thankful that John had found something that saved their flat from the destructive whims of a certain flatmate, John sat back and listened to Sherlock play, contemplating what to do for dinner. 

 

A few days went by and John had let the afternoon of quizzes slip his mind. Sherlock still had no cases or experiments on but that didn’t seem to both him. When he wasn’t reading emails or articles or playing the violin, John found him curled into his chair quietly tapping away on his phone. 

 

This behavior went on for over a week. Then a case came and went, an experiment on toenails was devised and carried out, and after all that Sherlock was back in his chair mysteriously tapping on his phone. John was going to let it go, but his curiosity got the better of him. 

 

“Sherlock?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Nothing.” Sherlock curled in tighter on himself, shielding his phone from any potential sneaky peeks John would try. John walked up behind him to see and Sherlock immediately shoved his phone into his chest, staring John down. “What do you want?”

 

“Just curious is all. You’ve been hooked to that phone for days. What’s so interesting?”

 

“Nothing,” Sherlock answered dryly. He maintained his stare until John ceded his snooping and moved to his own chair. Only when John was safely settled into the chair did Sherlock start typing again.

 

John became suspicious and tried looking over Sherlock’s shoulder every chance he got. It became a game, trying to catch his flatmate off guard. John was quick but Sherlock was on hyper alert every time John was around and was very quick to lock the screen on his phone lest John find out just what it was he was doing. 

 

In the end, John didn’t need to ask what he was doing. Sherlock eventually outed himself. The force of his outcry startling John enough that he almost dropped his mug of tea.

 

“MASHED POTATOES?! Are you kidding me?!”

 

“Jeezus, Sherlock! What are you on about?”

 

Sherlock’s head snapped up from his phone, cheeks red with embarrassment. “N-nothing, forget it.”

 

“Something about mashed potatoes?”

 

“Oh, mind your own business, John!”

 

“Ha! That’s rich coming from you.” John leapt up from his chair to snatch up Sherlock’s phone before he could lock it again. A squawk of consternation erupted from Sherlock but John paid him no mind. “What in the world have you been up to?” He turned the screen to face him and saw the familiar Buzzfeed logo and the results of a quiz. 

 

“‘Mashed potato: Congratulations! You’re mashed potatoes! People resist the urge to say ‘nom nom nom’ when they see you. It’s hard not to love you’.” Realization dawned on John and it had him giggling with glee. “Is this what you’ve been doing this whole time? Doing Buzzfeed quizzes?”

 

Sherlock pursed his lips, caught out but stubborn. “What of it?”

 

John shook his head and handed Sherlock his phone back. “Nothing. It’s just nice, is all.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s just nice to see you do something the rest of us mere mortals like to do. It’s endearing.”

 

Sherlock stared at him for a long time. “Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

 

John put a hand over his heart. “On my honor, I promise not to say anything to anyone about how you like to spend your free time.”

 

A few beats of silence, the two of them staring at each other. Then John asked, “did you do the “How would you die on Murder She Wrote” one yet?”

 

Sherlock blinked. “No.”

 

John grinned and said, “I got thrown from a drugged horse.” 

 

Sherlock laughed, searching for the quiz to see what his result would end up being. 


End file.
